


It's (not) his fault!

by Anonymous



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Castle Byers, Crying, Ficlet, Gay Will Byers, Guilt, Jealousy, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's not Mike's fault will doesn't like girls. Except maybe it is. yes. it definitely is.





	It's (not) his fault!

“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls.”

Those words clicked relentlessly on like an old bike chain on a loop in Will’s head. Click. Click. Click. It’s not. My fault. You Don’t. Like Girls. The thought made useless noise in his brain telling him to be worried that someone knew. They Petulantly squeaked as he tried to relax in the dark of his room.

  
It’s not like Mike actually would’ve know that.

Could have known that.

  
Was it that obvious?

  
He thought about it as he left my house, the heavy rain mixing with his tears as both trickled down his face and onto his clothes. He thought about it as he cried on the bike ride back to his house. As he sobbed, heaving heavy sobs—as he glanced down at all his photographs that pictured the party, but in every photograph, mike was on one side or the other of will. “It not my fault you don’t like girls” rang through his head as he ripped up the picture proceeded to crumpled and tear his drawing of will the wise. Still, tears streamed down his already damp and rosy cheeks while he destroyed Castle Byers.  
When he had finished tearing down the sorry remains of his childhood, he crumpled like a coat as his chest heaved. He tried and tried to control it. As he began to cry so hard he could barely breathe—he could feel all the tension, the weight, the guilt and the shame leave his body just for a brief moment.

  
Only just a moment. But one he cherished.

  
He thought about it as he stared Mike in the face and cried while the thunder in the sky growled and the rain hissed back.

  
Lying wide awake in his room, he thought about it. Still.

  
“It’s not my fault,” Mike had said as though it was true.  
But it was, in fact, his fault. Will didn’t even bother to think about why it might make him angry. He was just sad.

  
It was Mike’s fault; Mike, who once told Will that he was the best thing that ever happened to him. Mike who coaxed him out of episodes. Panic attacks. His best friend who he longed for when he was in the upside down, alone, and at rock bottom. He pictured his soft smile, dark curls and the birdseed freckles that scattered the bridge of his nose and the apples of his blushing cheeks.  
Mike—who ditched him to hang out with his stupid girlfriend.

  
And suddenly he was guilty again, the feeling urged him to find himself being swallowed up by the earth if it never went away. He didn’t hate El at all—it wasn’t either of the their faults that they ended up together. Fate just had it’s way of always screwing him over. All. The. Time.

  
After She dumped him, things only got worse. All he did was fucking talk about her. Things he liked about her, how much he missed her and cared for her, Ways to win her back. It made Will’s stomach turn and twist in ways which he could not fully grasp.

  
At least when they were together they spent their time apart from the group. So he didn’t have to see it, hear about it, pretend like he was happy for the two of them. Smile through another group conversation painfully while he watched the two of them, hands intertwined with sweat, and Mike’s cologne as if nothing was bothering him about the fact that not only El and Mike, But Lucas and Max, and even Dustin had someone special. All of the original party members had girlfriends. But he didn’t, more accurately, he couldn’t. Couldn’t play pretend to be straight for a nice girl or lie to himself simply because he was tired of being lonely. And he was beyond tired of it.

  
Of course it was always lovely when his mind decided to torture him more than usual, daring to play out scenarios in his head, of telling his mom, and Jonathan. The party. Telling Mike. When it wasn’t the trauma of being in the upside down and quite literally possessed, his mind was always finding ways to make itself miserable with the facts that he knew but decided never to tell.  
Presently he tossed and turned, beginning to cry silently, his head pounding from crying before. He was shivering from being out in the rain but hadn’t bothered to change his sopping clothes. He didn’t care. He turned around to face his pillow yelling and screaming into it out of anger, frustration, guilt, sadness, any other possible negative human emotion.

  
The aftershock of this brought him the dull hum of the rain outside in his ears, and his tear filled eyes adjusting to the light, the chipped paint of the ceiling moderately coming into view. The heaving in his chest slightly subsided, a sigh resulting after he quietly said to himself.

  
“It actually is your fault,” he informed the image of mike in his head. 

he imagined himself saying this to Mike, as he should of—mere hours before when his best friend decided to be a dick. But he didn’t. Might not for a while. Figured he might get around to it later.

But what is one to do when they begin to fall in love with their best friend? Tell them that they’re to blame? That never seemed like a viable option, so for now Will Byers would settles on his solitude and the few moments he still might get to share with the love of his life. Even if those moments were spent lovesick.


End file.
